


Up In Smoke

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas AU, F/M, Holiday, festive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:50:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader's neighbour sets of his fire alarm with his horrendous cooking. Concerned for his safety and her own, she helps Fili learn to use his stove before he burns the building down.





	Up In Smoke

You were almost finished your special holiday chili, the same recipe your grandmother prepared every yuletide. It was spicy with the right amount of sweet and all you need was to bake the bread which would perfectly compliment the dish.  _That was if your chili was not burning!_

It certainly smelled as if it were, but when you lifted the lid the alarming odour was replaced with the delicious aroma of your brewing ingredients. You lowered the lid delicately and wondered where the smell was possibly coming from. You briefly panicked as you wondered if perhaps you were experiencing symptoms of a stroke. Pushing away your paranoia, you began sniffing around your kitchen like a hound.

Your nose led you into your front hallway and you stopped before your door, reassured at least that your apartment was not alight. Yet, as the odour thickened, you were certain that someone else’s was. You pulled open your door, hoping the whole building was not about to be devoured by flames. There was nothing to be found in the hallway as you glanced around anxiously, or nothing you could see.

A subtle wisp of smoke escaped above the door across from you, catching your searching eyes. The number ‘3B’ stared back at you as you imagined it turning a tempered red from the fire which was surely raging within. If there was indeed a disaster brewing on the other side, you figured it was your neighbourly duty to check that all was well. Also, you would be wise to curtail a full-blown fire out you own interest; you had just bought a new television and you would like to get your money’s worth before it melted into a puddle.

You stepped into the hall in your socks and pulled your door closed gently behind you. You crossed to  _3B_  and bit your lip anxiously. If you were correct, the resident was the friendly blond who occasionally received your mail and was kind enough to bring it to you with his warm dimpled smile. As you thought about it, he almost seemed the type to start an apartment fire, accidentally albeit, but you could definitely picture.

You tapped on the door lightly and held your breath as if you were about to dive under water. You could hear the clang of pots and pans from within and you made yourself exhale before your face began to turn red. Footstep neared the door from the other side, muffle by the barrier of the walls, and you brushed back a strand of hair which had clung to your sweaty forehead while you were slaving over the stove.

“Hello?” Your neighbour greeted with confusion as he pulled the door, his usually cheery face creased with frustration, “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” Your returned meekly, “Um, I was wondering if you were alright. Are you…okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He assured as the stress left his features, “Everything is fine.”

“Are you sure?” You asked as thin smoke seeped from behind him, “I smelled burning–”

The time seemed to be most appropriate as his smoke alarm began to scream and you plugged your ears with a surprised squeak.

“Great!” He threw up his hands and turned back into his apartment, rushing into the next room, “This damned thing!”

You could hear him cursing from out in the hall and you glanced curiously through his open door. You wondered if you should just skulk back to your own apartment or if it was not too intrusive to try to help him. You stepped quietly through the doorway, hoping that your had not crossed a neighbourly line.

“Is everything–” You began as you peeked into the kitchen which was filling with even more smoke as he finally silenced the alarm, “Oh, this is just embarrassing.”

“Huh?” He looked at you over his shoulder, waving away the smoke, “Oh, uh, yeah, well…I’m not the greatest cook.”

“Apparently not,” You commented lightly as you removed the hissing pan from atop the stove, “But it’s not alight…yet.”

You pushed away more smoke as your moved the pan to the counter to cool down. You switched off his stove, the heat in the kitchen nearly stifling and the smoke threatening to choke you.

“Out,” You ushered him back through the door as your eyes watered.

“It’s my kitchen,” He replied, though he obeyed and led you back to the front hall.

“I know, but you can’t be in there, not right now,” You looked around before stomping over to a window, shoving it open and inhaling the brisk fresh air contentedly, “It might get a bit cold in here but it’s better than suffocating.”

“Hmm, thanks,” He uttered from behind you, “But I would have been just fine.”

“A few more minutes and I would have found you unconscious across your kitchen floor,” You turned back to his amused grin, “How can you be smiling when you nearly burned this place down?”

“I’m smiling at you,” He replied as he leaned against the door frame, “Have you ever considered a career in fire rescue?”

“Not before today,” You answered with a wry tilt of your head, “But now…It might just be necessary living across from you.”

“Well, I should always be glad to be saved by such a lovely woman,” He mused as his dimples deepened below his trimmed beard, “Though who would rescue me from you?”

“Pardon me?” You returned crossing your arms, “I just saved your ass.”

“And thank you for that,” He said warmly, “But it  _is_  the least you could do for all the times I’ve delivered your mail for you.”

“Not my fault,” You shrugged as you stepped forward, “Maybe you should talk with the actual mailman.”

“It feels as if I am the actual mailman,” He chuckled with a crooked grin.

“Mmm,” You pursed your lips and looked to your watch, “Well, I’ve got to check on my own cooking before it catches fire,” You explained, “Seeing as yours is…rather crisp, you’re welcome to have some of mine. There’s plenty to go around,”

“Sound delightful,” He pushed himself straight from the doorway, “Thank you…[Y/N], right?”

“Yes,” You confirmed as you made to pass him.

“Phew, good,” He said dramatically, “I was nervous I had been delivering mail to the wrong person. Mail fraud is a crime, you know?”

“And you?” You looked to him as he followed you through the open door, “I’ve not caught your name.”

“Fili,” He answered, his blue eyes flashing cheerily, “So, what are we eating?”

“Chili,” You opened your door and led him into your aromatic apartment.

“It smells delicious,” He inhaled deeply, “Now I really am embarrassed.”

“Hmmp,” You chortled softly, “I’ve still got to make the bread…would you like a cooking lesson?”

“I could definitely use one,” He kidded as he trailed after you into the kitchen.

“No touching the stove,” You warned with a grin of your own, “And wash your hands.”

You twisted the tap on and handed him the soap after dolloping some in your palm. You began to scrub up and watched him as he did the same carefully. You handed him a dish towel to dry off and turned to your collection of ingredients already set out on the counter.

“Now, this is not hard at all,” You sounded way too much like your mother, “We just have to mix this all together and voila!”

“Sounds easy,” He grumbled eying the assortment, “Just not for me.”

“Don’t worry,” You assured as you grabbed a bowl, “I’ll mix, you measure.”

“Alright,” He smiled as you handed him a measuring cup, “ I think I can handle that.”

You began your work, reading him the measurements as he did his best to get them precisely. It was almost endearing as you watched him work with so much focus and ever more so when he poured the flour too heavily and it clouded his face and shirt. Finally, you had the basic form down and dumped it on the counter.

“Now, you can try kneading it,” You instructed, “For about three minutes.”

“Uh, alright,” He said approaching the lump of dough cautiously, “I can try.”

“You shook your head and stirred your chili once more, the steam nearly burning your fingers as you lifted the lid. You inhaled the scent again, the urge coming naturally, and it reminded you of your childhood. You turned back, replacing the lid as you heard Fili working the dough rather roughly and found him flattening it.

“It’s a-me,” He exclaimed in a cartoonish voice and flipped the disk of dough, “Mario!”

“Don’t do that,” You could not help but giggle as you crossed to him, “You’ll ruin it.”

“Sorry,” He returned with a guilty smile, “I had to.”

“I know,” You rolled it into a block and placed it into the powdered pan, “I used to do stuff like that all the time…except my grandmother would me a swat for it.”

“Oh, well then, I suppose I am lucky,” He mused as he watched you set the bread in the oven, “Or should I brace myself?”

“I am not so cruel as her,” You replied with a grin as you eyes his powdery front, “You look like a ghost, you know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” He chuckled as he looked down and brushed a patch of flour from his shirt, “I don’t think it’s such a bad look.”

“Mmm, in moderation,” You commented as you reached out and dusted some from his forehead, “There. Now it’s just right.”

“Oh?” He flicked a stray hair away from his face, “I look good?”

“Well…” You were not quite sure how to answer, honesty was not always comfortable, “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” He nodded with consideration, “You should take a look at yourself?”

“Oh?” You quirked your brow, feeling your face self-consciously, “Do I have something?”

“Just a little,” He reached over and wiped your cheekbone softly, “Here. Looks like…tomato sauce.”

“Hmm,” You scoffed embarrassed, “Why didn’t you mention it earlier?” You rubbed your cheek as you tried to feel for any more residue.

“Don’t worry, it’s all gone,” He assured as his grin broadened, “And I thought it was pretty cute.”

“Cute?” You repeated with delighted surprise.

“Oh, sure,” He said teasingly as he stepped closer, “I would never have bothered to deliver so much mail if you weren’t.”

“Well…” You smirked as you looked up at him, “I can’t say I mind having a sexy mailman.”

“Sexy?” He mused as he leaned in and your lips felt only inches apart.

“Very,” You assured him and the oven buzzer rang just as your lips were about to meet, “Oh, that would be the bread.” You gave him a taunting grin as you grabbed your oven mitts and turned to your oven.

“You’re really going to leave me hanging like that?” He asked pathetically.

“We don’t want the bread to burn,” You called over your shoulder, “Unlike you, I am not a fan of my food being on fire.”

You set the pan down carefully atop the stove and pulled off the mitts, tossing them on the counter as you turned around. Fili was right in front of your as face him and was nearly as close as he had been before you had been interrupted. You pressed yourself back against the counter with a nervous laugh as his bright blue eyes sparkled down at you.

“Well, since we’re being safe,” He began as he leaned closer, “We have a few minutes to spare as that cools down.”

“Mmm,” You quirked your lips thoughtfully, “Only a few.”

“That’s more than enough,” He contended, pressing his lips to yours with impatience.

You smiled into his mouth as he pushed you tighter against the counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his enclosed your waist and you pulled him even closer. You had always enjoyed holiday cooking, but it was always better with some help. 


End file.
